Page 58 of Billionaire Corruption

I thought of how close that car had been to me, close enough for me to feel the air as it rushed past. If the jogger had not pulled me back, I would certainly have been hit. A car going at that speed, I may have been killed.

The thought shocked me.

For the second time in my life, I was in a life-threatening situation. But this one had felt closer, more real.

Toby went out to get us some food and my grandmother made me hot chocolate, came to sit with me.

“Maybe he’s right,” she said. “About going to the cops.”

“You think?”

“Can they really help?” she asked. “Do you think they’ll look into it? Maybe they’ll say it was an accident, that the car was just a bad driver.”

“And the box?”

“Well, there was no return address, was there?”

I didn’t know what to say.

“I think you should quit this job, sweetheart. It’s dangerous and not worth it.”

I hadn’t even told her about the information I had in my private inbox. What was it worth and to whom? My head was a jumble. It seemed like nowhere was safe. Paul had said something about the investigation being rigged. If it wasn’t meant to unearth proper evidence of wrongdoing, then all the information we’d found could mean real problems for the company. Especially proof that the chief financial officer was involved. That was one of the most senior executives in the company.

But it was not worth dying for, certainly not.

“So, this is the guy,” my grandmother said, with a small smile.

I looked at her kind eyes, the short grey hair, the sensible cardigan. I had always trusted her with everything.

“Yes,” I said, closing my eyes. “He’s the guy.”

“Good-looking,” she said, and I smiled.

“But trouble, right?”

I knew what she meant. I nodded slowly, wearily.

The weekend in Maine seemed like so long ago. The coffee shop and Margaret, the bicycle ride in the sun. It was like a dream I’d had, a moment where I could forget who I was and where I came from, where I had allowed myself to think another kind of life was possible with a man who loved me for who I was.

But that was before a car had tried to mow me down in the street in front of my house.

I thought of the ring he had given me and what it represented, loyalty and love. But was it worth my life?

I wasn’t ready for it all to be over before it had even started.

Toby came back with pizza, my favorite.

We sat around the kitchen table, eating the food and trying to talk of other things. My grandmother said she’d heard the winter was going to be colder than last year. Snow was forecast. She said she wanted to cook soup for us. Toby said he was feeling stronger but not strong enough to face some of her more adventurous soups. We laughed a bit at that, reminiscing about one of my grandmother’s spicy bean soups that upset all our stomachs one time.

Suddenly tired, I went to bed, getting up while they were still eating.

I saw there were missed calls and messages from Paul.

I called him back.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, sounding worried.

“Tired,” I said. “I think I’ll just go to bed now.”

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